


You Don't Form In The Wet Sand

by Dessythings



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A lot of fucking tropes here, Blood and Gore, Bloodplay, Coffee Shops, Crossdressing, Dubious Consent, I cannot stress enough about the notfic, M/M, Mercenaries, Notfic that became fic that's not a fic, Rough Sex, Seriously wtf was I thinking, Sterek blink an you miss it, Steter - Freeform, Toys, True Blood cameo, one sided Sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 14:48:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4526145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dessythings/pseuds/Dessythings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love is a myriad of pied emotions that are incorrigible, reckless and absolute. Love doesn’t discriminate against whom it possesses and in the grand scheme of things its insignificance drives us towards the horizon into oblivion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Law 39: Stir Up Waters To Catch Fish

**LAW 39: Stir Up Waters To Catch A Fish**

 

 _“When fortune smiles on something as violent and ugly as revenge, it seems proof like no other that not only does God exist, you're doing his will.”_ The Bride Kill Bill vol. 1

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Stiles now understood why Peter carried a handkerchief as spittle mixed with crimson blood snaked a path down his face in slow tendrils, he seriously hoped none had gotten in his eyes. His _‘prey’_ for lack of better words snarled obscenities at his person as he made a show of slowly circling its form. He fought down the urge to strike out, to end this miserable creatures excuse for existing, but he killed the urge with a harsh breath.

 

“I wasn’t even looking for you and there you were, just pretty as a red apple ready to be picked from the tree.” Stiles murmured, hand moving almost lovingly, caressing a bruised cheek.

 

“Fuck you, lemme go or I’ll...”

 

“You’ll nothing!” Stiles snarled so viciously that the tendons in his neck strained against his skin.”I wouldn’t touch your cunt with a ten foot pole and you’re in little position to make demands.”

 

“Wolf fucker!” she spat, “You’d do anything to get his cock, tell me; has he grown any?” her laugh was broken by wheezing coughs.

 

Stiles snorted. “You’re a real piece of work bitch. Are you or are you not turning as we speak?”

 

She froze in her struggling against the binds and stared at her captor.

 

“You were going to Mexico to let those fuckers kill you cause you’re too chicken shit to do it yourself, but then you got cold feet and killed them instead and now I have you here. I suppose I could be nice and do their job for them,” Stiles hmmed, smirking.

 

“I’ll be one of them soon, why wait?”

 

“So eager for death Kate? Well I’ll tell you why. I’m not going to simply kill you, no I’m going to make you wish for death by the time I’m done with you and for that the human body will just not do. I realize you are not the true start of the Hale tragedy but I’ve already cut the head of the snake off and before a new one grows, which would be you by the way, I’m going to nip this in the bud.” he paused, giving his captive a considering gaze. “Wanna see daddy?”

 

“What have you done to my father you knot whore!” she screamed.

 

Stiles laughed, “Oh ho, a Knot whore, I give you 2 points in the creative field. But you have to be an alpha to have a knot…besides, you’re thinking about the wrong Hale.”

 

Stiles stepped back out of spitting range and watched the gears shift into place in her mind.

 

“You’re sick.” she spat.

 

“No my dear, that would be you besides, pot kettle.” Stiles said, motioning between them.

 

The warehouse they were in was one large room shrouded in shadows that held a distinctive metallic smell, behind one of these shrouds of darkness stood one of Stiles masterpieces. He wasn’t much of an artist but when he got inspired to do something he went all out.

 

“Let me show you something,”

 

Suddenly light illuminated the space as Stiles flipped a light switch and a horrid scream filled the air, a scream that was continuous and sounded hysterical. Nailed to the once white wall was a very grotesque sight; black goop circled around a frail body sliced in two. The organs were falling from the body along with more of the black goop but the most striking feature of his art was the cane broken in two sticking out each eye socket, skull broken nearly in two as brain matter peaked through the fleshy surface.

 

“Like it? I call it Le Godet,” he chuckled.

 

The screams stopped, electric blue eyes stared at him as blue leopard skin started to disturbed her features. Now that was a surprise. Seems the shock of seeing her dead father forced the change on quicker, oops. Moving quicker than one would expect from him Stiles tripped a switch and five thousand milliamps of electricity ran down the shackles Kate was strung up in. She didn’t scream, but her teeth were clenched in pain as her transformation was forced back. Muscles twitched, spasmed and contorted in the confined space of the restraints.

 

“Did you know at this stage you won’t feel a lot of pain with the amount of electricity I’m using? Well if you were human you could die from this, but you’re not anymore. If I kept this up continuously for a few days it would cook your skin? Your regenerative cells in your skin would break down first and go comatose and then your skin would become vulnerable.” Stiles purred as he stalked towards his work table.

 

Upon the work table sat a laptop, red light on and other various objects. Stiles picked up a pair of rubber gloves and pulled them on. Next he picked up a welders mask and placed it on his head, mask down. He turned to regard his next attempt at art. While he wanted to keep playing with her for a while he knew that if he stayed away from home for too long he would be missed. His father was the sheriff after all and nothing escaped his notice for long. Sighing, he knew he would have to kill her soon and properly dispose of his art.

 

“Oh Katey-cat...do you know the different level of burns? I’m pretty sure in your lifetime you’ve experienced 1st maybe even a 2nd degree burns if you were careless around the stove,” he chuckled, all the while he turned his full attention toward Kate.

 

He stalked forward, mask down and lighting the welding torch.

 

“Now 3rd degree burns, that’s something not many people experience and live to tell, but those that do are incredibly strong willed people depending on how much of their body is covered in burns. Did you know there is a 4th degree one?” Stiles asked as he stopped short of the hanging figure.

 

“I don’t care,” Kate said in a rattling voice.

 

Stiles snorted behind the mask, “Of course not, well let me tell you about it anyway. _HealthLine_ says that 4th degree burns occur when the burn extends beyond the skin to the tendons and bones.”

 

He held the torch up looking at the flame.

 

“The hottest flame this torch can produce is three thousand, six hundred and twenty-three degrees fahrenheit. The average crematory uses a fire that reaches eighteen hundred degrees fahrenheit,” Stiles said, like he was talking about the weather and not about to burn a bitch to death.

 

“This flame is small, but it will do its job. Did you know it only takes the body two and a half, nearly three hours to become ashes…..well depending on size. I think it would take four days to burn you. I know it’s cliche, you killed my would be lovers family in fire so you shall die the same way but…but you really put my mate through hell. I value family above all else and when you fuck with what is mine I will get you. I don’t care how long it takes, but I will get you.”

 

She laughed, a weak raspy sound. “I’d do it again, all of it again, only I wish I could have gotten all of them. You’re not even his, his family wasn’t your family. You’re a fool.”

 

That...that was a sore spot.

 

“Fuck you, seven years Kate, **seven fucking years you whore!** He was so badly burned that if he hadn’t of been a wolf he would have died. His face was covered in 4th degree burns. It took him seven damn years to heal from what you did and he’ll never be able to heal from what you made him do.” Stiles screamed in her face, patience gone as he fisted her face in one hand and brought the torch to one of her eyes. Her screams were delicious.

 

“There were children and humans in the house that night. They did no wrong, the Hales did no wrong outside of existing and you just strolled back in town. You stalked them for months and when you found an opening you exploited a child's feelings and raped him.” he spat, releasing her face and taking in his handy work.

 

The eye was gone, the skin surrounding it was raised and bloody with some of the flesh completely gone. You could see the bone of her skull, she moaned in pain somehow still conscious. The smell was horrendous, he wondered how he was going to stomach it when he burned the rest of her and Gerard. Gas mask, he would have to raid the stations stock armory again, but it was a need he hadn’t foreseen. An bleach, lots of bleach. He was going to loose some nose hairs from this, a few stops around some random stores was in order!

 

“I’m going to cut off each of your limbs and cauterize the areas. If you don’t die from infection  I’m going to burn your skin off and if you’re still alive after that I’m going to go layer by layer till there’s nothing but ashes left.” he purred in her ear.

 

He took another step back and another till his back hit his work table, some of the items clattered to the floor. He deftly turned off the torch and removed his mask. The gloves came off next and he moved toward his laptop, he smiled at it before he turned that off as well. Like lightning it came crashing down on him what he was doing, is doing....was Peter worth all this?

 

Stiles remembered the conversation he had with Deaton nearly 6 months ago and since he made his choice of whom his mate would be, he knew in his mind and heart that all of this was more than worth it. To have that mans devotion and attention solely on him was well worth this. There was no going back, he would admit to himself killing Gerard was more for him than for Peter, but Kate was for the Hales.

 

He couldn’t help but to think back to that day with Deaton…..


	2. Law 17: Keep Others in Suspended Terror: Cultivate an Air of Unpredictability

Law 17: Keep Others in Suspended Terror: Cultivate an Air of Unpredictability 

 

~*~

 

“How do I look?” The Bride

“You look ready,” Bill ~ Kill Bill vol.2

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Deaton was a cheating fucking cheater. Okay, maybe not a cheater, but a damn inconvenient scheming devious asshole of epic proportions! A liar that lied! The conversation was still fresh in his mind, Deaton knew long before Stiles even got the man to help him with his spark that this would happened. The least he could have done was given him some kind of warning or a hint, but no he had to be cryptically detached. An by detached he meant right in the middle of things helping Scott but leaving everyone else in the dirt, but whatever, logic wasn’t always useful when emotions held captive. 

 

The state for his current freakout? Oh, just he had to find a powerful enough person to mate with so that his own spark didn’t consume him whole when it finally manifested. 

 

Easier said than done. He was still the virginal spazz that couldn’t even get a pity fuck (the basement kiss/make out session didn’t count) so how in the hell was he suppose to get a  mate ? And not just any mate, oh no it had to be someone as competent as himself or more so to take the reigns should there ever be an overload to his system. That ruled out all the humans of Beacon Hills and pretty much left his pack and the other odd creatures that they were friendly with. The mental list was pathetically short. 

 

Parrish, Lydia and Peter. 

 

Parrish was an unknown, but powerful fire creature. A powerful  untrained  fire creature, he was quickly marked off the mental list. The same with Lydia and the strange star crossed lovers thing she had going on with Jackson and Aiden was a turn off as well. So Peter...Peter who killed his own niece for power, but still an incredibly powerful werewolf an something else. The man basically brought himself back from death via banshee ritual. But he  was  loyal to a fault. Laura’s death granted him the power to kill those that killed his pack...at the cost of his mental health. But was it ever there to begin with? 

 

_ Tick Tick Tick… _

 

“Fuck you time!” Stiles huffed.

 

The blank open tab stared back at him defiantly, some things can’t be found by google an he’d be damned if he would ask Deaton about anything for a while. His brain was on loop again and he could feel a stress headache coming on because of it. 

 

Would he cry? He felt like crying. He was going to cry.

 

Suddenly his phone went off bringing him out of his cloud of self imposed misery. After a two second conversation with the resident Sourwolf he resigned himself to his fate as he stood from his computer chair. Pack meeting at the loft in 30 minutes. A little warning would have been nice. Then again the supernatural didn’t wait for anyone.

 

~*~

 

“So wait...vampires are a thing and they came out!” Scott yelped, Allison rolled her eyes.

 

“You owe me 20 bucks, told you that report wasn’t a prank!”

 

Scott whined, “Allison!”

 

Everyone sighed, this...this was their alpha, the fuck?

 

Derek cleared his throat. “Vampires are a lot like werewolfs but not. They run on a hierarchy system like we do and they have nest instead of packs. Packs stay together but nest don’t. Their politics are a little different as well. The Alpha Pack decides if packs stay together. Vampires use Sheriffs to govern areas and to keep an eye out for their kind and the Sheriff's answers to the king or queen of the state they live in.”

 

A cricket was needed, that’s how silent it was after Derek said his piece. Seven sets of eyes blinked at Derek owlishly and the misfit pack wondered if hell had frozen over. Surely hell had frozen over because that was the most anyone had ever heard from the stoic werewolf in the two years of knowing him. For his part, Derek looked like he wanted to hurt one of them as per usual. 

 

Erica asked the most obvious question, breaking the pregnant silence. “What do we do if we run into one?”

 

“Do not underestimate them in appearance.” Peter spoke, startling many. He really was a slippery wolf. “They can be hundreds of years old and appear to be young, whatever age they were turned they’ll forever look that age. A newborn could give a beta a run for their money.” he chuckled. 

 

“The only thing shocking about this is that they came out the coffin at all,” Stiles finally said, slightly disappointed for the reason behind their pack meeting. He already knew about this from late night Google binging and had prepared to inform his pack during the next planned meeting.

 

“Still...this could be a problem for our plans as a pack if one decides to set up shop here. More attention would be paid to people and we could be wrongly accused.” Derek sighed.

 

Logical.

 

“True, the _Fellowship of the Sun_ bullshit could spread up here. Still we’ve all been seen during the day time. One true things from legends is that vamps can’t come out during the day so if we keep our mouths shut and opinion to ourselves we should be okay.” Stiles concluded. 

 

Lydia stood up eying the door, “This has been a lovely discussion hour and I appreciate the heads up,” she started, but didn’t bother to finish as she headed towards the door. 

 

“No one has anything else to add?” Scott asked

 

Stiles coughed and all eyes landed on him. He honestly didn’t want to talk about this, but the sooner it was laid out on the table the better. Besides, it wasn’t like he was going to voice whom he chosen.

 

“Deaton is an asshole.” he started off. 

 

Scott looked offended but sheepish at the same time because even he knew how biased Deaton could be towards the rest of his pack. It was common knowledge amongst the group that the vet wanted in Mama McCall’s panties. 

 

“The bastard told me some news today that he really should have told me a few years ago. It really would have helped me and a lot of shit that went down wouldn’t have if that fucker had of said something even remotely hinting or useful,” Stiles ranted, but was interrupted from going on a full tirade. 

 

Lydia raised a brow, “There was something important in all of that,”

 

He blinked twice before replying, “I need a mate.”

 

Two things happened that no one would ever be able to forget and it would make a great story to tell during the holidays. One; Peter laughed in a non diabolical way and Two; Stiles jumped Peter. Jumped as in full sprung out of his chair and bodily tackling the resident zombie wolf to the ground where they rolled around until nature took its course and Peter pinned the teen to the ground using his body to weigh him down.

 

“Now that wasn’t very nice.” Peter chuckled.

 

“Asshole,” he spat, “Lemme up!”

 

The group of young adults could only stare in shocked silence. Despite all the bravado Stiles possessed he was more the think before acting kind of person and tackling someone that he usually verbally sparred with was an unusual sight. 

 

“If I let you up will you cease trying to maim me?”

 

Stiles grumbled what everyone thought was an affirmative as he was let go by the elder wolf. Said wolf fluidly got to his feet and resumed his perch near the staircase. Stiles could feel his cheeks reddening as he finally stood up, without looking anyone in the eye he quickly fled from the room but not before hearing Peter’s voice.

 

“I wish luck to his mate of choice, they’re going to need a lot of it.”

 

Stiles ground his teeth together as the elevator doors came open and he quickly exited the building. Yeah, Peter was going to need a lot of fucking luck.

 

_ ‘He don’t even know,’  _


	3. Law 47: Do Not Go Past The Mark You Aim For, In Victory Learn When To Stop

**Law 47: Do Not Go Past The Mark You Aim For, In Victory Learn When To Stop**

 

**~*~**

_“Revenge is never a straight line. It’s a forest, And like a forest it’s easy to lose your way… To get lost… To forget where you came in.”_ -Kill Bill

 **~*~**  


The elevator door to the loft banged opened and an intoxicating scent filled the air. Werewolfs and human alike scented the air as Stiles strolled through the door, one would think they never smelled a pastry before with the way they were carrying on.

 

“Food!” Erica squealed excitedly, attempting to leap over the arm of the couch to get up.

 

Stiles scowled, “Oh hell no, none of this is for yall!” Erica whined, as well as a few other when Isaac choked on air as he first took notice of Stiles outfit.

 

Everyone was so focused on the aroma of sweets that none noticed the smooth bare legs; a long black winter coat came off as Stiles set his burden down on the kitchen counter. Red, it would seem to be a color that would forever be associated with Stiles, a simple red bodycon halter dress that stopped mid thigh was revealed. As he walked further into the loft the distinct clicking of heels met the ears of the occupants of the room. That’s when everyone took note of another fact; Stiles was wearing makeup. It was a subtle smattering of soft kohl black eyeliner and pink lip gloss, but it was enough. He didn’t exactly look completely feminine, not with his current buzzcut, but he could be _androgynous_.

 

“Not a word pup!” Stiles said with a disarming smile aimed at Isaac; said pups jaw snapped shut with an audible click.

 

It was about this time when distinctive sniffing sound was heard.  

 

“Is that Reese's brownies I smell?”

 

“Yes! You do NOT want to know the hell I went through to get this recipe from Ginger,”

 

While Stiles could cook he wasn’t known for his baking skills, it wasn’t something his mother focused on when they would cook together and her cookbooks didn’t hold many true dessert pieces since she was diabetic. None contained a recipe using Reeses and since Stiles knew for a fact that this candy was the achilles heel to the ex-psycho wolf’s well built walls he decided he would do whatever was necessary to make something with them; _e.g. brownies._

 

“They’re not for any of us so hands off!” spat Erica as she stalked forward.

 

Stiles smiled, “Wrong She-Wolf, these are in fact for Peter...all of them.”

 

The silence that followed that sentence was deafening until a sinful moan permitted the air.

 

“These are divine!” Peter moaned around a mouthful, it was a sight to behold. The normally homicidal wolf was acting like a 5 year old stuffing his face.

 

“Eh...maybe I’ll take the rest home, so you don’t get sick.”

 

Electric blue eyes blazed at Stiles. “I don’t get sick,” and in a blink of an eye he was back to stuffing his face. Stiles snorted, of course he didn’t get sick, but he didn’t go through 4hrs of hell that is waxing of legs, arms and other delicate places along with make-up and being used as a human doll before finally getting a certain drag queen to show him the best way to make brownies for the receiver to eat them all in five minutes like a human pig. Sure, he could have used Google but that required a lot of trial an error and he tasted her brownies before. Heavenly didn’t even begin to describe these pieces of ambrosia.

 

Erica had resorted to pouting. “That’s not fair!”

 

Out of all the occupants in the room Derek and Scott were giving Stiles guarded stares, in fact Stiles was confident that if Derek stared at him any harder his eyes would cross if Stiles were to suddenly move in any direction. Scott...Scott looked a little green. Derek finally broke the stare down as he told Erica to sit back down. While he wasn’t alpha anymore and wasn’t the eldest wolf in the pack he was the strongest of the beta wolfs and the most trusted so his word was as good as an alphas in their pack.

 

Then something happened that caused all the wolves to turn their attention towards Peter. Derek flared his nostrils and in a heartbeat Stiles found himself thrown over Derek’s shoulder and the pair was soon on the roof. Stiles didn’t fight the rough treatment, he hadn’t expected Derek of all people to react so suddenly but he didn’t protest the treatment even though he wished the wolf had of at least thought to bring his coat along. While the wolf was a furnace, Stiles was not. He was one hundred and forty-seven pounds soaking wet and while he loved winter his body did not have much insulation.

 

“I’m going to freeze off my left nut up here,” Stiles complained once he was set down.

 

Derek glared at him briefly before he scrubbed his face with his hands an let out a frustrated huff of air. He leaned against the half wall behind him and slid down into a crouch as he finally looked up at Stiles. His eyes were guarded, but even an emotionally stunted person could read the hurt behind them.

 

“Why him,”

 

“Why not him, more importantly why do you care?” Stiles asked.

 

“Stiles,” Derek bit out.

 

“No,” Stiles said, crossing his arms. “Talk,”

 

It was a weakness that even Derek acknowledged, he wasn’t a very good conversationalist when it pertained to things beyond the supernatural and especially when dealing with his erratic emotions. A double edged sword in being able to face the hardships he’s lived through but forever on the outside looking in on others happiness.

 

“There are thing you need to know, have to understand about Peter. The fire was only a scratch, my mother was alpha for a reason and she choose the pack before her personal feelings for her brother,”

 

“What are you trying to tell me?” Stiles asked, breath leaving a wispy trail of fog.

 

“I know what you’ve done to Kate, I could smell her Stiles! I’m telling you that a man like Peter has more baggage than Kate and the Argents. I’m telling you need to stop.” Derek paused, “You’ve made your point.” he sighed.

 

“Have I?”

 

Derek looked up sharply in response, “No ones going to challenge your claim, he’s already accepted it.”

 

“Just because he ate my brownies doesn’t mean shit,” Stiles huffed.

 

“It means that he trust you.” Derek whispered as he looked up at the dark night sky.

“Derek, I don’t have time for this. You’ve known for six months what I needed and didn’t do a thing. Truthly I had already chosen him before I told the pack, but you could have done anything and I would have given you a chance. If there was a ship it would have sailed a long time ago.” Stiles said, sighing.

 

Truthly there wasn’t any old or new attraction towards the ex-alpha. Sure, Derek was a thing of masculine beauty to behold but like his _babcia_ used to say _‘All beauty and no substance leaves a stale taste in your mouth,’_. Derek wasn’t stupid, but there wasn’t much to Derek and while he would be great for someone else he just wasn’t enough for Stiles. If Derek was jut now realizing he had feelings of some sort for him then tough shit, he had his chance and this just further cemented the fact they did not belong together. There would only be pain and misery from any union they formed.

 

“I don’t want to see you hurt,”

 

“Then maybe I should have stayed home instead of trying to find your sister in the woods. Getting hurt is what reminds us of our humanity and the pains are worth it if love is the outcome.” Stiles said.

 

Derek looked up sharply, “You love him?”

 

“Perhaps, no...no, not yet I don’t, but with time I could. What is happening is not another Kate in the making. Okay, I’m not going to set him on fire...again, well if he doesn’t go psycho I won’t.” Stiles chuckled.

 

“That...that should not be funny. You are a horrible person.” Derek finally said, a smirk on his face. Perhaps Stiles wouldn’t get hurt and he would be what his Uncle needed to reclaim his humanity.

 

“If I’m horrible then together we can be a decent whole. Come on Sour Patch we’ve got a loft full of confused pack mates.” Stiles said, sticking his cold hand in Derek’s face.

 

He grunted, getting up on his own. Maybe he was overreacting or jealous, he wasn’t sure but he hoped for Stiles sake everything would turn out okay. Following behind the human he couldn’t help but stare at his legs, they were really working for him.

 

Downstairs Peter held up a lovely red all naturally dyed dream catcher. If one looked close enough the would’ve noticed the strings in the circle of the dream catcher were human hairs. A note accompanied the dream catcher, it simple read for Peter.

 

**~*~**

That didn’t stop Stiles from sending off the rest of his gifts, what had been done had been done and there was no going back.

**~*~**

 

The aroma of something sickly familiar lofted through Peters’ apartment, something tainted in copper. An aroma soon tainted in a familiar scent that made Peters’ hackles rise; _Argent_. Springing from the sofa he was once sprawled over half shifted into his beta form Peter eyed the room and scented the air again. Beta blue eyes landed on the front door, stalking forward he expanded his hearing beyond his four walls and was washed in the everyday orchestra of the outside world. He opened the door swiftly glanced down both sides of the hallway, nothing til something shiny caught his eye at his feet.

 

“Well what do we have here?” he murmured.

 

The box was rectangular, about 6 inches long and wrapped in silver wrapping paper with little moons. A red bow and a note were on top the box and now that he was holding it he could smell what could only be the faint scent of a teenage boy on the paper. Smirking, he removed the note and read…

 

_‘Don’t take this the wrong way, I don’t want this to befall you but I think its only fitting you have a part of what started all this mess._

_Happy Birthday’_

There was no name left, but it was signed in a different way. Three spots stained the paper and Peter inhaled deeply, the little shit marked it in his spunk. Peter was caught between being perplexed and curious, if he didn’t know any better he would think that the kid was trying to court him in true wolf fashion. Curiosity won out and he unwrapped the gift an lifted the lid. He laughed, pure and near manic, he laughed and laughed fore inside the box lay the severed withered penis of what could only have been Gerard Argent.

 

Fitting indeed, he was half tempted to pickle it in a jar.

 

**~*~**

Over the next few days various presents found their way to Peter’s door step. More Reeses brownies, a bottle of vintage wine, but the most intriguing present was a simple plant.

 

A hydrangea and a single lilac in his mailbox stained in more of the boys cum and a few drops of his blood. The flowers were a mystery that Google solved; Hydrangea represented perseverance and the single lilac was for first love.

 

Peter snarled. Such an intriguing child, already ruined for the world if he was so entrapped with him. The wolf in him was overly pleased in the wooing, however the human and more rational part of Peter was wary and the feeling of which he hadn’t felt in a long time made him question why he had accepted the gifts? It would be only a 10 minute drive to the Stilinski household to break the child's’ foolish ambition and go back to being on the fringes of acceptable society. The greedier, more selfish, part of Peter won out and he placed the flowers in a vase on his coffee table.

 

**~*~**

Once the pack realized whom Stiles chose as his mate all hell broke loose till calmer minds prevailed. This was Stiles after all, the boy with all the master plans.

 

**~*~**

 

The gifts stopped for a few days and he found himself thinking that this was all a trick, a very demented trick and he couldn’t nor wouldn’t put it past Stiles to pull something like this. So it was only natural that he took to following the boy around. Two days in and his routine was simple; to school, track after to condition for lacrosse in the late winter early spring and either home or to run an errand for the sheriff. If he wasn’t doing one of those four things then the boy spent hours locked in his room on his laptop, lost to the world.

 

Another mystery that needed unraveling was how the boy was able to hide his scent just until Peter was right up on the object. It was puzzling to say the least. He couldn’t sense any magic nor were there any plants or herbs left behind to help mask the scent.

 

One night, about 5 days later, Peter was able to get into Stiles room while the boy was downstairs watching TV with his father. His eyes were automatically drawn to the computer. The window was full of tabs, at least 50 or so. The page currently on display was a site about Native American folklore. After clicking through a few pages Peter was able to determine that there was nothing of interest there.

 

Standing in the middle of the room he listened to the rapid heart beat of the human boy that caught his wolfs attention and alternatively the human as well. If the little shit wanted him so bad then it would do for others to know he was off limits now. Smirking, Peter crept over to the unkept bed an flopped down without making a sound. He rolled and squirmed into the bedding while he brought the boys pillow to his face and rubbed it all over his face and down his neck. The boys scent was extra concentrated here and Peter was tempted to rub one out here to return the favor, he would have too if he hadn’t heard footsteps on the stairs.

Silently cursing the timing he jumped from the bed and was out the window in a flash. He hadn’t been this reckless since high school. What was this boy doing to him?

 

**~*~**

 

He should have thought more about the Native American folk lore page.

 

**~*~**

 

So he thought nothing of it when he opened his door one Thursday morning and found another box done up in the same wrapping with a bow and note atop on his door step. He quickly picked it up an slammed the door closed; shopping trip forgotten. Clawed fingers eagerly ripped the envelope opened and his eyes devoured the letter inside.

 

_Fun fact, a person can live for a while without their scalp! I admit, I originally was thinking of shrinking her head, but I don’t have time for that. Sadly, I’ve had to end this game sooner than what I would have liked. A boy can only go unseen for so long with a sheriff father and a werewolf pack to tend to._

_Yours_

 

Signed ‘ _Yours_ ’ with three more cum stained dots. Christ almighty this boy was gonna be the death of him! Sitting the letter down he unraveled the ribbon and nearly shredded the wrapping as he lifted the lid and was met with the sight of golden mane. His grin was feral as he lifted the scalp of Kate Argent. He was going to have to frame this memento!

 

**~*~**

Everything came to a head at a pack meeting, naturally. Ordinarily Peter wouldn’t have gone but the creature of the week was something the pack hadn’t tackled yet and was proving to be out the grasp of knowledge even with Peters massive bestiary. Besides, there was a whiskey eyed fuck boy that he had to look after. The rooms’ occupants were quiet as they spread out making their way through a stack of books, one teen screwing around on their cell phone and one zombie wolf fucking around on his laptop.

 

Suddenly, Peter’s gmail alert tinged.

 

Curious, Peter opened the tab and read the new message topic that simply read “I’m Your Zombrex,”.

 

“What the fuck is Zombrex?” Peter muttered, half noticing a certain teens amused glance.

 

Taking a chance to test out his latest anti virus software he downloaded the content. Let it be said that once you see something you’ll never be able to unsee it, not that Peter wanted to unsee what he seen.

 

There was no sound. For that he was grateful for surely he would have lost it had there been. What were once white walls in the background were stained red in what he could only guess to be blood. A headless torso hung from meat hooks to one side and on the other was the body of Gerard Argent strung up and cut in two. What took centerfold was the boy whom made his wolf howl in abandon and made it want to present him his fleshy belly. The boy was perched upon a stainless steel table, naked and covered in blood.

 

The boys hips twitched as he touched his cock, mouth opened wide and eyes half shut. It took a few seconds to notice that the boy wasn’t simply twitching, but grinding down on what could only be a suction cup dildo.

 

**Hot fucking damn.**

 

A few things happened at once, four set of beta eyes flared to life and shifted their attention from the books to the elder wolf. One alpha flashed his eyes as he roared at Peter. Stiles would sit innocently through this exchange as the zombie wolf stared at him in wonder. The human pack members were perplexed.

 

Peter laughed, “Silly rabbit.”

 

“Trix are for kids,” Stiles snorted.

 

“Oh god, please take your creepy mating ritual somewhere else!” Erica snapped.

 

The wolf got to his feet, closing the short distance between him and his prey. Snatching the phone from the little shit’s hand he pulled him up to stand. Bringing the hand to his lips, he smiled.

 

“Do you want the bite Stiles?”

 

Sweet laughter flooded his ears as his boy quirked an eyebrow at him.

 

“Was there any doubt creeper wolf?” Stiles said.

 


	4. Law 32: Play To People’s Fantasies

**Law 32: Play To People’s Fantasies**

 

**~*~**

 

 _“My Name is Buck and I came to Fuck,”_ Buck, Kill Bill vol 1

 

  
**~*~**   


 

A werewolf, vampire and a wizard enter a bar...sounds cliche, right? Well that’s what happened, sorta. More like the tall Swedish vampire owns the bar, the werewolf is covered in vampire goo and the wizard is high on V. The circumstances surrounding this particular event centers around the Swed vampire pissing off a coven of witches and said witches earning a bounty warranted being put on the Dead Pool list.

 

If only things stayed that simple, but time Stiles and Peter stepped foot on the Louisiana border the simple assassination of the coven had went to hell in a fucking hand basket.

 

There’s a saying, _“Look underneath the underneath,”_ and it could be applied here in spades. Peter could snort all he wanted about the origin of said quote but it’s the fucking truth. Since the vampires decided to ‘come out the coffin’ a whole new shit storm began to brew for the supernatural community and business was booming for people like Stiles, Peter and their pack, Mercs for hire; _thanks Braeden_. The main reason for the fuckery that took place less than an hour ago? Russell fucking Edgington.

 

Well, it was twelve parts Russell with some fairy realm shit thrown in the mix and one really fucked up town that put Beacon Hills See No Evil thing to shame. How can a whole town deny being possessed by a crazy maenad spirit creature? Lets not forget about all the dangers in that town that were clearly human though.

 

There were two kinds of people, those folks were clearly the latter.

 

“Everythings really floaty!” Stiles giggled, fucking giggled.

 

“I suggest you take your human to get cleaned up,” the Swed said.

 

Peter grinned, “Will you be providing us with this accommodation? Its not like we can acquire a place in our current...condition.”

 

“Catch me Peter!” Stiles yelled as he attempted to jump on the werewolfs back.

 

Peter rolled his eyes as felt the weight ram into his back and long arms lock around his neck. Stiles buried his face in Peter blood soaked shoulder and sweaty neck. He shifted his stance as he reached behind to hook his hands under Stiles knees to bring the sparks legs forward to lock around his waist. Peter raised a brow at the vampire.

 

In a blink of an eye the vampire blurred in an out of sight as he returned to stand in front of Peter wearing a smile.

 

“You are in luck wolf, the Dungeon isn’t in use currently. There’s a bed and bathing facilities within. Follow me.”

 

Walking through the empty club they were led down a hallway towards a door. The vampire opened the door and hit a light switch. They descended the stairs and were led by an interesting torture device. There was blood and...other bodily liquids on the cement floor.

 

“Please excuse the mess, the maids day off.” Eric chuckled.

 

Peter snorted. “Doesn’t bother me, although the Wheel is giving me ideas.”

 

Eric led them to a room with a large bed. Peter could still smell that it was well used, despite the detergent smell that accompanied it. Eric eyed Peter and his burden.

 

“There is clothing in the bathroom, although we are nearly the same height you are of a thicker stock than I. I hope you’re able to find something, the child should be able to wear my clothing easily.”

 

“Thank you, we’ll be gone before sundown.” Peter said as he moved past the threshold to dump Stiles on the bed.

 

Eric grinned fangs down, “It was a pleasurable fight. I hope we cross paths again wolf.” then he was gone in a blur of motion as the door to the room and basement were closed with audible clicks.

 

Sapphire blue eyes met whiskey colored ones as they eyed each other up. The wolf was roaring below the surface to take, to claim and to own the boy before him. Peter had been waging an internal war since the fight with the coven and other vampires ended to keep calm. He was always a little touchy feely after fighting. He grinned, teeth a little sharper as he took in his prey.

 

“Peter,” Stiles whispered, eyes blown wide.

 

There seemed to be an electric current running through the room, one second Peter was standing and the next he was on his boy pinning him to the bed with his body and nipping at his neck. Stiles moaned at the treatment as he tried to get his hands free to grip at the bloody shirt that clung to Peter’s body.

 

“I don’t think I can control myself Pet,” Peter panted.

 

“Then don’t,”

 

Peter groaned, he was going to be the death of him.

 

Stiles was still high from the accidental ingestion of V and he could feel no pain as claws tore through his clothing and nicked his skin. One moment he was staring into sapphires and the next he was face first in a pillow as his jeans and boxers were ripped opened. In his rush to finally, finally, get inside of his boy Peter didn’t even bother stripping either one of them. Just ripped a hole large enough for his cock to get in through the denim and boxers; partially shredded his own zipper to get his cock out.

 

Precious seconds ticked by as Peter tried to calm himself enough to retract the claws as he kneaded the raised bottom before him. Once his claws were gone he spread the cheeks to stare at the flushed rosette of skin. It looked tight, so damn tight. Peter doubted Stiles ever took the time to really explore himself; video aside, but he was high on V and anything that Peter did would be healed within moments.

 

His thumb caressed the twitching flesh as the blood from his kill smeared the skin. Stiles whined throughout this an tried to roll his hips into the mattress to get some friction to his denim clad prick. Peter chuckled darkly as he brought one of his hands down to push into Stiles lower back to keep him still. The other hand was used to collect some blood from his ruined shirt, he spat into his hand and pumped his cock a few times before he smeared some of the mixture into the hole as he spread it opened with two of his fingers.

 

Stiles squeaked at the feeling an craned his neck back, trying to get Peter’s lips back on him. Somewhere in his drug induced mind he knew this was going to hurt, but at the moment he could care less.

 

“I’m going to fuck now Pet. I’m going to tear this open and use it till I fill you up. Get you so full I pup you on the first try.” Peter murmured into Stiles neck as he draped his body over his lover.

 

It burned, the nearly unbearable stretch around solid rigid flesh slid inside of Stiles slowly. Spit and blood, vampire blood, made a horrible lube but the longer Peter flexed his hips to move his cock deeper the more vampire blood that entered Stiles system through the small tears in his walls despite the pace Peter set. Stiles tried to arch away from the intrusion, despite being high the body still had pain censors and they were pulsing with each heartbeat.

 

Peter grunted as he bottomed out, eyes blazing electric blue and teeth far sharper than any humans had a right to be as he clenched his mouth shut tightly. Slowly the boys body unfurled and finally went lax beneath him after a few minutes. The drugs in his system were fading, but not before healing the worst of the tearing. All Stiles felt was a pleasurable thrum as his nerve endings buzzed.

 

“ **Move** ,”

 

He pulled out, more spit and slowly inched back inside. Stiles groaned, he felt so desperately full and empty all at once having never been stretched to such limits before. His body was not listening to him, was not responding to his urging. He wanted to move back into the thrusts, to get on knees and elbows to snap his hips back and take what he wanted. But all he could do in his delirium was to gurgle around moans and twitch against aborted movements.

 

It sounded loud to his own ears, skin smacking against skin. Hot panting breaths, Stiles erratic heartbeat in his ears. Grunting, beyond moans now his boy was grunting with each thrust he gave him as he took the body beneath him.

 

They were going to absolutely ruin this bed.

 

Somewhere between the start and now their hands met, fingers circling one another in a sweet embrace contrasting against their harsh movements. Suddenly harsh thrust turn to tortuously slow grinding. Stiles whined piteously, his still clothed erection nearly rubbed raw against his cotton boxers.

 

Hot breath stroked against his ear. “I want you to come, I want to smell it.”

 

A few more teasing grinds against his prostate and Stiles was done for, he arched against Peter’s bloodied body as spasm after spasm racked his frame. Peter snarled against his ear as he reached his peak soon after, pulling out to spray his load on Stiles back.

 

He rolled over on his side to avoid collapsing on his lover, a lover that was down for the count if the light snores was anything to go by. Teens...all talk and no stamina. Oh well he’d have to cure his little Pet of this trait, thoroughly cure him.

 

Peter’s evil laughter could be heard throughout the club and it shocked no one that the pair was not gone before sundown.

 

“Oh granddad’s not going to like this.” a mocha skinned vampire committed the next night.

 

A striking blond female vampire looked at her childe. “I am not cleaning that up...Tara!”

 

“But mother!”


	5. Law 9: Win Through Your Actions, Never Through Arguments

**Law 9: Win Through Your Actions, Never Through Arguments**

 

**~*~**

 

 _“Wiggle your big toe,”_ The Bride, Kill Bill vol 1

 

**~*~**

A well loved 1975 Jeep CJ-5 tore a path down the road towards the main drag in Beacon Hills. When it became apparent that this ‘ _Werewolf Shit_ ’, as Erica so lovingly called it, would be a forever kind of thing in their lives and Beacon Hills would forever be pack turf it was decided to make moves to legally own certain parts of the town and have certain positions locked in their favor; for example one of these things turned out to be having a popular shop in town. One of the best ideas Scott would ever have was using the money left over from his father’s insurance money to buy three large brownstone buildings on the old main street in downtown Beacon Hills.

 

Oh yeah, Scott’s dad kind of kicked it hard during one of those supernatural shit storms that happened every so often and no one shed a single tear.

 

Anyway, one of the buildings used to be an old bread factory and thus BroNut was born. Well it wasn’t really that easy. The newest additions to the pack, Liam and Mason, actually gave Scott the idea when they commented on Mama McCall’s Ensaimada, a Spanish sweet bread.

 

_“Its like sex in my mouth!” Liam moaned._

 

After the little homicidal idiot calmed down and worked on controlling his wolf with Scott and Derek he wasn’t half bad…if a little annoying, but people said worse about Stiles when he was off his meds so whatever. Really, it was like having another mini Jackson around while the real one was still in London, joy!

 

 _“You’d make a killing off these,”_ Mason had then commented and ever since then it was a close case.

 

Scott gathered all of his mother’s dessert recipes and ‘experimented’; another cool fact, Scott wasn’t that bad of a baker. The bakery was a combination of classic Spanish desserts focusing more on adventurous doughnuts and drink flavors. The name of said shop was meant more as a joke but one that stuck.

 

BroNut…just think about it and you know it was totally Stiles and Isaac's fault.

 

So first came BroNut that became a huge success with its welcoming atmosphere and delicious treats( _The BroNut Special; a Salted Caramel Mocha Latte called the Brosiden paired with your choice of either Salted Caramel mini Cheesecake Bites, Glazed Salted Caramel Bronut Holes or a Ding Dong cake made from chocolate ganache and marshmallows_ ). A few months down the road Lydia and Allison opened a consignment shop in the corner brownstone. It would be a work in progress for a few months as Allison had to talk Lydia out of purchasing high priced name brands and to focus on finding items that the ‘everyday folk’ could afford. While Lydia was a certified genius she was a rich snob half of the time so it was slow going at first.

 

Nearly a year later, two years after graduation, Boyd brought out the tire and lube station in town. Seems that while Boyd was a hard working hustler he also had a knack for Poker, said winnings automatically went into a savings account and when he got his degree in business it was only logical that he acquired a place that he was well acquainted with...well the skating rink wasn’t up for sell. It also didn’t hurt that Erica looked killer in a grease monkey clothing.

 

Around that time another pack member was graduating from the community college as well. Take a moment to let the image marinate in your mind, Derek Hale in scrubs...yum. With all the pain and tragedies that happened in his life it was only natural that Derek surrounded himself in a pseudo controlled environment of nurturing and helping others to heal because underneath it all Derek is a softy. He cried during Furious 7.

 

We’ll all ignore the threat of biting ones throat out with their teeth.  

 

The most shocking of career changes happened when the Sheriff wasn’t the Sheriff anymore. Although he’ll forever be called ‘ _Sheriff_ ’, the job change was a step in the right direction for the pack. He became the Mayor and Parrish took over being the official Sheriff of Beacon County. However, when it became apparent that he would have a lot more paperwork when there was a **_Supe Shit Storm™_** , yeah Erica actually trademarked that, an old contact gave them the idea of keeping the heat from their front door.

 

 _Mercs_ for hire.

 

There was a Dead Pool, which Stiles would totally deny fangirling over, for all the criminal Supes in the United States. There were similar ones for the other countries but some were handled by a special branch of said countries government. The one whom made the list was not relevant, all one needed to know that these people on the list deserved death and that was that. Every so often a text would go out to all mercs with a list of numbers. Stiles and Peter, the only ones in the Pack with flexible work schedules, would pick a number at random and depending on if someone else got the number they would be instructed to either buy another cell phone to receive the hit information or to pick up the package details at a certain location.

 

Peter always went to get those packages.

 

There were certain safeguards that Stiles and Peter put in place when they decided to do this for the pack. There were 5 in total and today Peter had broken the most important one of all.

 

So a well loved CJ-5 tore a path down the road toward BroNut with the driver drumming his fingers on the steering wheel in an erratic pattern. The passenger was silent, throwing glances at the driver every other second. He wasn’t scared of much, hello he died and came back to life, but one thing that put the fear of god in him was a pissed off mate and at this moment his mate was beyond pissed off and he had every right to be.

 

Suddenly the Jeep pulled into an empty parking space and Stiles calmly put the Jeep in park, exited and closed the door, not slammed; this was his baby after all. He stalked toward the entrance to BroNut, not caring a single bit that he was covered from head to toe in blood nor the fact that his outfit was in tatters.

 

The door chimed and Liam was behind the counter not paying attention.

 

“Welcome to the BroNut home of the best doughnuts ho-...” Liam babbled til he turned his attention toward the door. “Stiles!”

 

It being the afternoon, there weren’t many people inside but the few that were there were already on their phones dialing the police department and mayor's office. Stiles paid little attention to the occupants and walked further inside and towards the back where the manager's office and break room resided.  

 

The door chimed again.

 

“Hello Pup, have you seen my wayward companion?”

 

Liam gulped. “Eh...th-the break room.” he pointed.

 

“Thanks, he’s a little pissed we didn’t take first prize at the con...I admit I’m a little shocked myself. I mean look at me!” Peter smirked, waving a hand down his body, a body soaked in blood.

 

“Con?” Liam asked.

 

Peter smiled, bless ignorant pups. “Yes a sci-fi con down in Sacramento. You have no idea the hell I was put through on the drive back because we lost.”

 

Almost instantaneously the atmosphere in the little bakery change from tension to nearly relaxed candor. Fools. The community of Beacon Hills had long ago learned to ignore what was right in front of their eyes and go about their everyday lives. No one questioned why half of the buildings downtown were purchased or how a group of freshly graduated high school students owned said buildings. The community as a whole had taken the ‘Speak No Evil’ to heart and thus far the town was thriving and making strides. Some of the patrons were even taking pics on their phones. He would hear no end of this from Stiles if he ended up being on the front page of Tumblr...again.

 

Oh right, **pissed off mate**.

 

Sending another disarming smile to the patrons of the shop Peter calmly strolled towards the break room area, or most likely the manager's office.  He was sure Stiles was ranting at Scott for his behavior on their latest hunt.

 

_“Peter, rule number 1. Don’t die.” Stiles declared as he drew patterns on Peter’s chest._

_Peter smiled, “Wouldn’t dream of it my Pet.”_

 

A simple exchange of words and what had Peter went an done...he died, again. It was only two minutes this time, but he could still feel the strain that it put on Stiles. He could almost taste the anguish and fury. Make up sex would be an endurance test this time.

 

“Scott’s not here,” Stiles sniffed, as soon as Peter opened the office door.

 

The door was closed and a cone of silence descended on the two.

 

“I like to think that we are honest with each other,” Stiles said, Peter raised a brow as he crossed his arms.

 

“That your mine and I’m yours, right?” Stiles asked.

 

“What does…” Peter started, but was interrupted by a laugh.

 

“You’re under the impression that you get to talk right now. No, just no. I’m the one talking and you’re going to listen to me because if you don’t your ass can sleep outside!” Stiles ranted.

 

It was worse than he feared, if Stiles was threatening to take away the house **_his den_** then he knew he was in some deep shit. The sounds of the cafe were floating through the door along with the aromas as sweat started to form on Peter’s brow. Nerves, they got the best of anyone and despite all the swagger he threw around Peter was no stranger to them. They saying of _‘Fake it to you make it,’_ was Peter’s best friend growing up.

 

“That means that you don’t get to decide when you die, I do and if I have anything to do about it you are not going to die on me for a long ass time. If you ever pull some shit like that again I will kill you myself, bring you back through birth and name you my bitch! When I said I could handle it, it means to fucking trust in me to handle my shit! You do not…what are you doing, get the fuck up,” Stiles stopped talking, staring at the wolf on his knees before him.

 

“You’ve got some mouth on you, even after all these years. I Love it.” Peter said smiling.

 

“You make it sound like we’re 80 fucking years old.” Stiles scoffed.

 

He laughed, “In time...but look at me, look at me. Just think about what it means for me to be on my knees for you.”

 

Stiles tilted his head, “What, you’re face is in the perfect spot for a blow?”

 

“No,” Peter purred, then pulled something from his pocket.

 

Time stood still as Stiles eyes bulged. Peter’s arms circled around Stiles legs as he buried his face in fabric of the shirt in front of him, cuddling the stomach beneath and thoroughly scenting the area. Pulling back Sapphires bore into whiskey colored eyes as a solid black band glinted from the cheap overhead lighting. Sometimes the only way to deal with an angry mate was to show them your trump card.

 

Although, Peter was going to need a new one after this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will most def be a pt2 to this notfic thing...hello wedding notfic and the bachelor parties, its Stiles so something fucked up will happen! 
> 
> Once again, thanks to everyone that kept me going on writing this despite all the crap I went through offline.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the fic that became a notfic that is now a fic or my excuse to make a 4+1 thingy semi Tarantino style, seriously I was watching Kill Bill and Jackie Brown when I wrote this. I took a lot of fucking liberties with this, there's popculture refs all over the place, I do give credit to Malapropian for the drink name and the Steter Chatzy for encouraging all of my crazy and mostly random ass thoughts pertaining to writing. I also give a huge thanks to Besin for putting up with my bitching at 3am.


End file.
